#Timothy Scott's Misto (aka cryptid)

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So I was watching the very start of the 1984 version of Rum Tum Tugger with Terrence Mann, and I finally spotted our favourite cryptid Misto aka Timothy Scott’s Mistoffelees: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t1cFYa5YM3c

Interestingly he, as far as I can tell, runs offstage entirely and is never seen again, not even at the dance segue between end of RTT and when Tugger spots Grizabella. As he probably still sang the Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer song at this point, it’s most likely to prep for that; but in character I love to think it’s Cryptid Misto being, y’know. Cryptid.

I have included a link to the video in case anyone else wants to see it and maybe even gif it because I don’t have the know how to tech skills to do that lol. Look out for Munk sitting in the background throughout the song looking like he’s just HAD it. He is Tired of Tugger’s Bullshit.

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Flufftober Day 18: Soulmates AU

Tugger and Mistoffelees eventually find they immediately recognise each other from first meeting when they see their fur markings that became the sign of their being soulmates through Jellicle Life after Jellicle Life after Jellicle Life.This travels through six of Mistoffelees’ nine lives.

Cats the Musical - Tuggoffelees - Soulmate AU - Rating: G.

@flufftober​

Once upon a time, many centuries ago, when Tugger and Misto had passed on from their first Jellicle Life (they had fallen for each other, naturally), it seemed as if someone higher--perhaps the Everlasting Cat herself--had noticed how they had been so devoted to each other, and gave them the mark of soulmates so they could find each other again and again in their next eight Jellicle Lives.

It was curious, but in his first life, Mistoffelees did not have the tiny bowtie marking on his throat, nor the curious markings on his face that would change from life to life--more spooky in some lives and more cute in others. Yet, even in his first Jellicle Life, Mistoffelees had his magic, would always have his magic, and his signature Conjuring Turn. Meanwhile, Tugger had been his Maine Coon self, mane and bushy tail and dramatics and all--but he had not his leopard-like spots on his chest in his first life. Oh he had the hips, he had the voice, he had his aura of charm that oozed from every bit of him, but he had not yet those curious spots.

That was about to change, once they crossed the Heaviside Layer into their second lives, as curious and magical as their first.

Into his second life Mistoffelees’ magic went with him as loyal as ever, but with an edge of darkness, of being able to reach into the void, able to see ghosts flee from the peripherals of his vision. His shadow pressed on him, moved in darkness of its own accord; sometimes he touched a rock and it burned or scratched under his paws. His magic swelled inside him, large and powerful, and he could have unleashed its fullness, used it for terrible things, but he did not, for his heart was too kind to dream of such a thing. He was proud of his magic, and wasn’t afraid to show off, to put on an act, to bring puppets to life to entertain an Important Cat. He was a storyteller as much as Munkustrap was, regaling the deceivingly quiet life of the Gumbie Cat and the rambunctious chaos of Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer.

Naturally, as in their first lives, Mistoffelees and Tugger fell for each other; now the latter had his chest spots, a mark that would stay for the remainder of their lifetimes, just as Mistoffelees’ new bowtie marking on his throat and curious black markings around his eyes and mouth would too. That feeling of familiarity still lay dormant, sleeping, waiting to awake in a later life.

Something...strange happened in the Heaviside Layer after the second life, and somehow, in his third life, Mistoffelees was not at all his past two selves. Now his personality had entirely turned upside-down, the inverse of who he had been before. Instead of the proud showman he had been the last two lives, now he was entirely mute, an outcast from the Jellicle tribe, no longer an intimate friend to Munkustrap, who was now harsh and sharp, his attitude around Mistoffelees like sandpaper instead of gentle, soft silk. Perhaps, in some unconscious part of his mind, Mistoffelees remembered his friendship with Munkustrap, for he always trailed after him, looked up to him like a child to an admired adult, no matter how harsh the Jellicle tribe’s protector acted toward him.

And for the first time in this life, when Mistoffelees had first met Tugger when they were kittens, something about his growing mane and bushy tail, and those curious leopard-like spots on his chest struck him as familiar. Like he had seen him before, and something had stirred deep in him, though he had still been too young to think about or name it.

In this life, for his part, no sooner had Tugger spotted the tiny bowtie marking on the other cat’s chest or the faint lines on his white face that would become bolder with time, a sense of deja vu had come over him so strong he’d stumbled mid-step. And he knew, somehow, that this kitten would be a part of his life from that day on til the end.

Perhaps the muteness of his character had unsettled the Everlasting Cat, for when Mistoffelees slipped into his fourth life, he was no longer mute, but nor was he a showman--and yet, that was okay. Once again, he sung with pride, inviting everyone to the Jellicle Ball in his own voice, letting his magic fly around the stage, confident and strong in his own abilities. His relationship with Munkustrap wasn’t as one-sided as before, but nor was he entirely close and affectionate with him as he had been as a showman either. Mistoffelees wasn’t a storyteller anymore, that had all passed to Munkustrap, and would remain so for the rest of their lives. 

They’d had enough lives together now that both Tugger and Mistoffelees felt a strange deja vu when they saw the other for the first time. Before he’d even seen Tugger for the first time in this life, he already could imagine what he looked like, chest markings, mane, bushy tail, swagger and all. He could imagine that gorgeous baritone voice, his charming smile and laughter, and how when they teased each other, it felt like it had always been this way.

Always been this way.

He had his old sass back, healthy and strong, in his fifth life, even if he wasn’t singing his own song or raising puppets to life or telling the kittens stories to calm or entertain them as Munkustrap did. Even better, in this life, now he was closer to the Munkustrap he had once known many lives ago when he had too been a storyteller. Munkustrap was gentle, attentive to the kittens, a calming presence, a brave fighter, and a very sweet lover with Demeter. His magical confidence brightened the day of all those who saw it--he could make lights blink, could turn the lights on or off, spin up a Conjuring Turn so fast that the smallest kittens got dizzy looking at him, and--

He was so much closer to himself, Mistoffelees found through his life, and he wasn’t sure why. But he was glad for it--his banter with Tugger was full of sass as it had once been, even if he didn’t dance much with him, that terrible bore who maybe hogged the spotlight a little too much.

When he first met Tugger, he knew he had seen him before--he recognised him instantly by his chest spots, and in his turn, Tugger confessed to him one day he knew it was Mistoffelees the first time they had met ever. Why?

It was the bowtie marking, Tugger had said, and your face.

And my sass, too, I’m sure, Mistoffelees had added silently.

Mistoffelees’ personality was like a fluid through all these lives, never flowing the same way between two different times. His confidence (perhaps too much of it, Jellylorum would tsk), and his youth, and his awkwardness all tumbled together to become the young, sweet cat he would be in this life. Mostly, but not entirely, mute, he knew how to express with his face and his body. The glare over Bombalurina’s shoulder when she took his spotlight at the Ball, the embarrassment that radiated from him when he had thought he was going to tell a story about the Gumbie Cat (it was Munkustrap, one again, who thankfully didn’t call too much attention to his mistake), and the infectious confidence he exuded when Tugger had shown everyone his magical powers in a time of crisis.

Bowtie marking. Thick arched eyebrows and cute little black nose and whiskers.

Still the same.

Tugger’s chest spots, huge mane of fur, that charm, that swagger.

Still the same.

Again, and again, they would find each other, know who they were at first sight, and know, just know, who each other were and are.

They had met before time and time again, and knew they would met time and time again in their future lives.

And all because of a marking on their fur.